It's Just Dinner
by partsguy
Summary: Immediately following "Hello", Joan goes to Morse's place and they have dinner together. Still trying to figure out what if anything they mean to each other after all this time. Twelve years after season 5, the two have moved on with obvious results. The why remains a mystery.


**It's Just Dinner**

Morse could only describe the day following his evening at Joan's place as being largely one of regrets. Multiple regrets, and for opposing reasons at that. On one hand there was some degree of regret for having gone in the first place. That was coupled with an almost equal amount of regret for having put it off for so long. Then finally there was the feeling that to allow her to come over to cook dinner for them was somehow, not correct.

Add to that a slight feeling of being a wee bit paranoid. Every time his phone rang he expected it to be Strange summoning him to his office. But in every case, he had been wrong. Not only were there no calls but he hadn't seen his old colleague around at all. Perhaps he was overthinking things a bit but that seemed a bit suspicious.

While Morse was at work, Joan went through her normal morning routine. She got up, admittedly feeling the effects of a little too much wine, and fixed breakfast for the kids. Then she helped get them ready and off to school. Afterwards she had the chance to sit down and relax for a few minutes over coffee and a Danish. She had to admit, just to herself, that her behavior with Morse the night before had been a bit, just a bit, unwise. Jim had certainly known what he was talking about with his warning to her. Perhaps it would be best to just call Endeavour, Morse would be aghast if she called him that openly and beg off for the evening. She suspected that he would be as relieved as she would if she reneged. She considered it, reached for the phone, paused and then searched through her address book until she found the number she wanted.

She hesitated for just a moment before she dialed the number. Then she waited for the voice of her most dependable sitter. One who she knew wouldn't be upset if she was a bit late getting back. "Hello, Debbie, Joan here, are you available this evening?"

"Eh, I'm sorry Lewis what was that again?"

"Look, if you're not going to pay attention why am I bothering to tell you about this?"

"Don't know." "What say we call it a day. Go home, watch telly, help the wife, do whatever you two do over there."

Detective Sergeant Lewis at first thought Morse was joking. Although he really hadn't been too interested in work all day. Perhaps he had a new record he wanted to listen to or something.

"Are you sure that's alright with you.

"Please, just run along. No point in making a production of it."

"Well then, good night sir" "See you in the morning".

"Yess. In the morning." "Good night"

After Lewis had left, Morse sat at his deck, leaning back a bit in his chair, a somewhat vacant look on his face. His eyes were focused on a point somewhere far beyond the walls of his office. Occasionally he would click the top of the ink pen he was balancing between his hands.

Despite appearances to the contrary he must have been conscious of his surroundings. The only proof of this was a sudden start, a quick glance at the clock, which resulted in him sitting upright before rising to his feet. He glanced down at his desk, making sure nothing needed to be put away before grabbing his coat and walking out of his office.

On his way out of the building out of force of habit he glanced into Strange's office as he was passing by. He almost had to do a double take when he saw that the man was indeed in for the day. He stopped, almost thought better of it then went into the office for a word.

To his surprise he wasn't met with the normal feigned rudeness or sarcasm. Instead the big man just looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Uh, just wanted to let you know I was leaving for the day."

"Fine"

A pregnant silence between the two old friends.

"Well, see you in the morning."

Just a shake of the head.

Morse pulled on his ear lobe, and after a few more seconds realizing that that was all left, walking out to his car.

Strange, exhaled loudly, shook his head sadly and returned to his work.

Having made sure that Debbie was available and agreeing on her arrival time Joan could concentrate on other things. One thing for sure she thought, nothing would get done about the house today. That she decided, was the last thing on her mind. At best it was an onerous task anyway. Instead she would visit the supermarket.

On the way she considered various options for a meal. Although it had been a few years she doubted whether Morse's tastes had changed. Back when she had cooked for them the meals had been simple, yet tasty. Nothing too exotic really, that he reserved for his music and his books. And, she remembered with a smile he was far from uptight in the bedroom. Tonight was a night for something plain and uncomplicated.

Morse got into the aging Jaguar and started it up. Sometimes he thought he detected a new noise or rattle but not this evening. He was glad however that it was a pleasantly warm day. The heater had packed it in that spring and despite repeatedly reminding himself it had yet to go into the garage for repairs. He would have to tell Joan to mind where she put her feet however. It wouldn't do for it to drip glycol onto her shoes.

He had to pay attention to the route over to her place as he'd never driven there from the station. I a way he thought that was a blessing. It kept his mind off the evening ahead. As he remembered Joan had always been a good cook. Good enough to put a few pounds on him during their brief time together.

He shrugged and told himself to stop that. That going back over that old fiasco, maybe tragedy, would do no good. After all that would mean all the money he had spent on alcohol, all the hours spent staring at the bottom of a glass had been wasted. Plus he felt reasonably confident that she wasn't planning a reenactment to celebrate their foolishness.

Debbie had arrived promptly on time and had fallen into the usual routine with the children. This gave Joan time to get herself ready for her evening out. After her bath she spent a little more time than normal choosing what to wear. Of course while jeans and a top would have been fine for the announced purpose of the evening she didn't really want to go that route. Something casual, yet a little chic, but certainly not provocative was in order she thought. Having made her choice, she dressed and went back down stairs to join everyone.

Debbie was looking forward to her evening with Joan's kids. They were generally well behaved, unlike some she had for clients. Normally after dinner they would do their homework, something she would look in on, but not really get too much involved in. After that it would be telly until bedtime. Easy duty really, and Joan didn't normally stay out late. Normally the events that she went to were over early, probably a few old timers in the mix. But this evening promised to be different. First, she had asked would it be a problem if she was a bit late, that she was going to prepare dinner for an old friend. Nothing odd about that, but she noticed that Joan hadn't strayed too far from the window since she'd come downstairs. Well, none of her business was it? Besides Joan wasn't overly stingy with the money. That was always welcome, and it wouldn't be wise to bite the hand that fed her.

Debbie and Joan engaged in idle chatter while waiting for her ride to arrive. Debbie found it amusing how Joan had positioned herself so that she could keep an eye on the street. If she didn't know better, she would be suspect that there was more to this than she had been told. The woman reminded her more of a teenager about to go on a date than a married woman going to have dinner with a friend. She saw a quick reaction and Joan move away from the window. She might as well have held up a sign proclaiming that her "friend" had arrived.

Debbie prided herself on her ability to observe people and discern their thoughts and motives. Joan's actions since she arrived had certainly piqued her interests. Even now, although it was perfectly obvious that she knew her ride had arrived she was going to great lengths to pretend that she didn't. That in itself was enough to make Debbie wonder who was going to ring the doorbell any moment. She suspected that it would be a man, although what sort of man she wouldn't hazard a guess. As for herself she wouldn't blame the child if it were some dashing youngster. But again that was none of her business.

The doorbell rang, and Debbie would soon have her answer. She had no sooner started for the door than a hasty "I'll get it" stopped her. She stood aside as Joan, with what Debbie perceived to be a little more haste than normal went to the door. Of course that could have been to give herself time for that quick glance in the mirror. Nevertheless she opened the door, with a smile, and invited her quest in.

The man that stepped through the door was not very impressive in Debbie's estimation. Of medium height and build, maybe starting to run to fat as middle-aged men tend to do. His hair was prematurely grey and trimmed just so. Not a razor cut but just a little bit of roughness to it. It fit well with the look that he wore well whether it was intentional or not. The most impressive thing about him was his eyes. Eyes that seemed a little aged for a man of his years. Intense eyes, eyes that could easily be imagined to flash thunder if he wanted them to.

As soon as he entered the room she had the answer to her question. There was something there, something old, something that was smoldering like a campfire that somebody had tried to put out and not quite succeeded. She suspected that it was going to be a long night ahead.

The introductions having been made neither Joan nor Morse wanted to engage in a lot of chat with Debbie, or the kids. Joan led him into the kitchen where she gathered up her few purchases to take to the car. Morse, a gentleman as always took them from her and escorted her out to his car which was on the curb. There he took the bags and put them into the boot. Then he opened the passenger side door and she gracefully entered, followed by him settling into the driver's seat.

As they were buckling their safety belts she remarked to him. "I'm surprised you still have this. You bought it shortly after you transferred to Thames Valley didn't you?"

"Yes, I had seen it on one of my first cases at Cowley and fell in love with it."

"It suits you." "You should hang on to it."

He shrugged "and like me it's getting a bit worn and difficult to deal with"

"Regardless, it may be worth something one day"

"umm, perhaps."

Joan sat back deeper in the seat and relaxed. He thought she reminded him, as crazy an analogy as it was, of a cat in front of the fire. For her part she looked out the window and thought back to other times she had been in this same car. Years ago now.

"oh, mind your feet." "Sometimes the heater drips onto the floor board." "Been meaning to get it fixed."

"and why haven't you?"

"same old story, work."

"Is that the only thing you've been meaning to fix….and been too busy?"

He suddenly found the road extremely fascinating. Couldn't take his eyes off it.

The rest of the short journey was completed in silence. Each of them seemingly engrossed in their own thoughts. When he pulled the Jaguar into its accustomed parking space, out of the corner of his eye he could see her taking in the house. He pulled up the handbrake and switched the engine off, and silence reigned again.

"Is this it?

"yess, we're here"

She didn't wait for him to come around and open her door. Instead, she got out, stretched a little bit, and stood waiting for him to get the groceries out of the boot.

"A bit different from the last place I think"

"a little,"

"I thought you really liked the old place?"

He thought about his response for a few moments, before settling on something he thought safe. "I just felt ready for a change of scenery, and this was available." (there were too many memories in the old house, too many dreams gone awry) "Let's go inside."

"Lead the way"

She followed him as he led the way up the walkway onto the porch, waited patiently while he unlocked the door, and led the way inside. Once inside he told her to "feel free to look around, I'm just going to put these in the refrigerator."

She followed him into the kitchen telling him "I'll wait, and let you give me the tour."

"nice sized kitchen must suit you very nicely"

"well you know me, (oops) I don't do a lot of real cooking. Mostly warming up some takeaway, or breakfast"

"nevertheless, good to have if you ever need it"

That comment caused him to look at her for a moment, trying to see the meaning behind the comment. She didn't say anything further yet didn't shrink from his gaze either. He continued to show her around the house. She would occasionally throw in a comment or make an observation. Generally she compared this house to his previous one. When they had finished he led them back into the den, where he found his way to the drink's cupboard.

"Red wine? Or something a bit stronger?"

"maybe something just a bit stronger."

"what do you prefer?"

"let's see how good your memory is?"

A moment of panic while he tried to remember what she liked to drink. The two times they had been together recently she had stayed with red wine. He certainly hoped that a gin and tonic was the right answer. After mixing her drink he handed it to her along with a coaster.

"I'm impressed." "I thought perhaps you had forgotten".

He wanted to say he hadn't forgotten anything about her. Instead he settled for "lucky guess."

Rather than take a seat she wandered about the room, taking a minute to examine the paintings and pictures.

"some of these are new, aren't they? New to you at least."

"a couple of things. I just wanted something different." "I was going to put on some music, but I don't have any pop records I'm afraid."

"That's ok, go ahead. I'd gotten used to your musical taste, it's actually relaxing after a while."

Morse found a record that he thought was as close to her taste as any he had and put it on the turntable. Once he had started it he looked back at her to see if she approved before taking his own seat.

"So tell me about yourself, how have you been getting on?" (dam) "I mean I'm sure you are busy."

"oh you know". "Same as always."

"And your Sergeant, Lewis isn't it?"

"Good man, that." "Solid, not much imagination, but very solid."

"Family?"

"Excuse me?"

"Does he have a family, wife, children?"

"No, he's married but no children."

"Probably for the best don't you think?" she peered over her glass, "Children might get in the way."

"I don't see that." "after all your father did very well, didn't he?"

She didn't let him see her smile, point won. "Yes, I think so"

They sat there for a little while, enjoying their drinks and occasionally engaging in small talk. Of course she had to carry the conversation such as it was. She found him to be no better at small talk than he had ever been. Therefore much of the talk revolved around mutual acquaintances. She knew him well enough to know that current events or sports didn't interest him. At the same time she didn't want to reveal just how much she knew about him over the recent years.

She glanced at her watch and announced, "I suppose I had better get started with dinner if we're going to eat tonight." With that she stood up and started towards the kitchen.

Morse stood as well, keeping his eyes firmly affixed to her face, avoiding looking directly at her legs, which he had already noticed were still shapely.

"Need some help?"

"Sure, if you want."

They went into the kitchen and after a little nervous fumbling around, Joan of course being unfamiliar with where things were stored, settled into what quickly seemed to be an old easy routine. One of them found it comforting, like coming back home after a long vacation. The other, while they felt the same, would have added that they felt a slight sense of unease. Of being pulled along by an irresistible tide.

Morse went out to fix them another drink. When he returned he found her at the counter, her back to him, mixing something, perhaps the salad in a bowl. He would have been less than human if he hadn't noticed how her body moved with the stirring action. It triggered long forgotten memories, pleasant ones to be sure. He tore himself away from the scene, walked up alongside her, set her drink on the counter, "what else can I do?"

"I think its under control, until the meats done."

He leaned back against the counter, in some ways relaxed, in others more afraid then when that tiger was running loose all those years ago. She finished what she was doing and turned to face him, took a sip, a large sip from her drink.

"Are you sorry?"

"Sorry for what?"

She didn't bother to answer, just gave him a questioning look.

"There are a lot of things I'm sorry for."

"I mean that I turned up in your life again after all these years."

Again he searched the bottom of his glass, looking for something that wasn't there.

"no, really, are you?"

"Joan, it's been a long time."

"has it been long enough to forget, or at least forgive?"

How to explain? Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he shouldn't try.

"Oh, I've never wanted to forget you. Despite what happened, never not once."

"You know what I mean."

He turned to face her. "No I'm not sure that I do."

Enough was enough. Time for the play acting to end.

"Dammit!" "Don't play dumb!"

So the showdown was finally here was it.

"Joan, we can argue about this until we are blue in the face, it won't change what happened."

It took all her self-control, but she was able to control her voice this time.

"Agreed, but have you found it in yourself to forgive me? Or at least to try and understand.?"

"yes, and you may be surprised, but I actually blame myself, not you." "If I had acted differently, and I had the chance.' "I just don't see the point of opening old wounds."

"Maybe they can be healed?"

"Perhaps"

"Agree, let's drop it for now, dinner's almost ready".

"Sounds good to me."

"Morse I'm sure you've wondered why I've turned back up in your life?"

"The thought had occurred to me."

Before she could answer him the buzzer on the oven went off signaling that the set time had elapsed. She turned looking around for an oven mitt. He opened one of the drawers, retrieved a mitt, and told her, "let me". She, having reset the timer, stood aside and let him remove the pan from the oven. Together they examined the meat, she tested it with a fork before declaring, "I think it's ready."

"I'll finish setting the table."

"I'll get the salad"

The meal served they sat down to enjoy their dinner. It was a welcome intermission from where the conversation had been heading earlier. Surprisingly both diners were able to relax and enjoy the meal. Both knowing however that afterwards somebody was going so throw a firecracker into the mix. When they had finished and congratulated each other on how good it had been the table had to be cleared. Morse started to pickup the dishes and take them to the sink. Joan insisted that she wash, and he agreed to dry. This gave them a little longer to enjoy the peacefulness of the evening. Something they should have been willing to settle for, but apparently wouldn't be.

"I assume the reason you're here is so that we can talk privately."

"Partly."

"Come now, partly?" "Let me freshen your drink and we can talk in the living room if you want."

They adjourned to the living room. This time he didn't bother to put on any music. That didn't help the situation, just made it more ominous.

"So what would you like to talk about"

"Have you seen Dad recently?"

"No, not for a good while."

"And why not? You guys used to be close.

How to explain, how much to explain? "I don't believe that he's very happy with me."

"Do you truly believe that?"

Could she think he wasn't? "he made it pretty apparent the last time I saw him."

"you might want to try again. You might be surprised."

"He was not shy about telling me his opinion the last time I saw him."

It was her turn to swirl her glass and avoid looking him in the eye.

"things change you know."

What was it that she so obviously wanted to say? Evidently something had changed, something significant in her life. But that shouldn't be surprising. Her life, at least the part of it he knew had seldom been without some form of drama. Generally, at least in his estimation, self-inflicted.

"you still haven't asked why I reentered your life after all this time."

"I assumed that it was some form of goodbye, for old times sake, before you followed your husband."

She almost choked on her wine at that.

"How long have you been a detective?"

He knew there was no need to answer that, she knew almost to the month the answer.

"And you never tried, never found it interesting enough to make any inquiries?" "Talk about being put in one's place."

"Oh, I'm a detective all right, but I never have liked playing games"

"So when we parted that day, that was the end. You never bothered anymore. As far as you were concerned I was out of your life?"

"eh, its not quite as simple as that."

"sounds like it was"

"If that was true why did I come running as soon as you showed up?" "showed up as a married woman with two children!" "And about to leave England likely forever!"

"Morse think about it. Do I have to draw you a picture?"

"perhaps you do."

"There are many reasons a man, a married man. would take a overseas posting. Not all of them are to get a promotion."

He sat back in his chair, oh….

"do you see, beginning to understand?"

He leaned forward in his chair, wrapping both hands around his glass.

"When? why? You can't be serious."

"Oh, yes, I'm very serious." "Do you think Jim helped me just for the hell of it?"

"I never imagined…..I still can't."

"Did you think I had decided to just act like a tart for old times' sake?"

"You've hardly acted like a tart."

A small smile, "you mean you didn't expect to sleep with me tonight?" "I've done everything but give you an engraved invitation."

"let's get back to your husband"

"I suppose the proper term is separated."

"that happens all the time, hardly permanent. There's the children."

"oh, quit being so dramatic Morse. I'm a grown woman and I've thought it through, ok?

"so what would you like for me to do?" "how can I help?"

"you can start by standing up."

He had no idea what she was up to, but he stood up.

"now come over here and hold me for a moment." "Or if you prefer I can come to you."

"that won't be necessary, assuming you're sure."

It was hardly the warmest embrace she'd ever had. But considering all that had transpired. Everything that had happened, and it was a bit much to expect too much from Morse yet. she'd settle for this.

For his part Morse had never dreamt that he would have that he would have his arms around Joan Thursday again. Years ago he had walked out of this desirable woman's life and never looked back. Now she was offering herself to him as if none of it had happened or indeed mattered. But things had happened, and things did matter.

Apparently, she needed him, or at least thought she did. For the moment. And for what, a proven bed mate? Or something more? But did he need or even want her? Certainly as a woman, but beyond that?

It would be easy to let her take the lead, as he used to…well before. Every indication was that this would be, as it had been in the past, pleasant to say the least. But was it worth it? Had anything changed since that day? Was it worth one more try? If he let things develop the way they were going he may not have much choice.

Untangling himself from her embrace and holding her at arm's length, he could see the surprise I her eyes. "Joan lets slow down a little bit." "I'm sure you have thought this thing through, but are you sure?" "Of more than tonight I mean?"

"Maybe tonight's all I'm concerned about now."

"That was never you."

"People change."

"Not that much." "This could be a huge mistake."

"Are you worried about your conscience, about cuckholing my husband?" "Or is their someone I don't know about?"

"No, there is no one else." "and I've never met your husband, nor do I expect to."

"Then what?"

"I don't want to relive the last twelve years."

"Then let's not do that. Why don't we start over, - if you want to? If you don't…I'll understand"

"Don't think that I don't want you, any man would, just not like this." "I hope you can understand."

She wasn't sure that she did understand. She had hoped that he would have forgiven her. Or would at least have been willing to pretend that he had forgotten that day. Apparently, he wasn't. "it's getting late, I'm sure the sitter will be getting worried."

"Joan" maybe this was the best for now. "you're probably right." "a work day tomorrow, got some tasks to get Lewis started on."

"Then perhaps I'd better be going."

"Perhaps that would be best …for now."

She gathered up her purse and they walked back out to the Jaguar. Morse, of course opened the passenger door for her before walking back around and getting in himself. On the way back to her house there wasn't much to say, each lost in their own thoughts. As they turned onto her block she did brighten up for a moment. "I bet Debbie will be surprised that I'm getting back this early." "But it will be nice to look in on the kids before it's too late."

Morse paused for a moment after switching the car off. He was far from sure that he had done the right thing. In fact he felt that he may have made an irreversible mistake. 'I enjoyed the evening, thank you." Perhaps…"

She turned to him with a sad look on her face, "that's not necessary, let's see, ok?"

He walked her to the door, just before he reached it he stopped her. "I think I may go by and see your father in the next day or two. I've been remiss."

"I'm sure he would by pleased to see you."

After she had unlocked her door she turned to him and said "goodnight". She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before going inside.

Morse looked at the closed door for a moment before walking back to the Jaguar. As he pulled out onto the street he said to himself "I've got to talk to the garage about fixing that heater."


End file.
